Solstice
by GracieParker
Summary: Written from the point of view of Maggie Donnelly, a classmate and eventual friend of Bella Swan. Jacob/OC, because he totally got the shaft from SMeyer.


I don't really write Fanfiction, but I don't think I'm alone in thinking Jacob Black got screwed out of a good story. This story takes things a bit AU as the introduction of an OC tends to do, but many events of the books remain, if slightly altered. Feel free to review, good or bad, though I can't promise I'll take constructive criticism to heart. I'm writing this more to satisfy the story in my own mind, so if there are things I do you don't like you can certainly point them out, I just might not care.

I wrote it first person against my better judgment just to keep it somewhat in step with Meyer's books. It's not something I'm used to doing, so I apologize if I totally suck at it.

Oh, I also own nothing but my own character, Maggie Donnelly. I suppose that's obvious.

Here goes...

* * *

As I leapt onto the porch with an ungraceful thud a resounding crack of thunder boomed overhead, letting loose the light drizzle I had been cursing my entire walk home. Under the shelter of the overhang I allowed myself a moment to catch my breath, glancing back at the rain that was now coming down in sheets and smirking slightly at the triumph of my perfect timing. Pulling my hood down and digging my keys out of my bag I turned to the door, slamming my right shoulder into it as I turned the lock. It was a motion I was accustomed to after dealing with the stubborn door for a few years, and though it used to cause me great frustration, my annoyance, along with the bruise on my arm, eventually faded in the blur of routine.

I had lived in this old blue house for over three years now, and though I could never consider it home, it was perfectly adequate for the time being. The front yard had a few scattered trees and was larger than most in the neighborhood, the house being set back significantly farther into the woods than those around it. The structure itself was of fairly modest size, with a slightly dilapidated wrap around porch and a sidewalk to the driveway that was almost completely overgrown with grass and moss. Along a section of the porch there was vine covered lattice, which would make it quite a charming place to sit if it weren't for the precarious situation of the hooks that supported the old swinging bench. Behind the house, and where I preferred to spend most of my time, was complete forest. Since arriving here when I was fourteen I had been treading paths through the trees and brush, finding various places that I would pledge to be my favorite, only to later be replaced by a newly discovered spot even more serene and secluded than the last.

Kicking off my wet shoes I made my way immediately up the stairs, not stopping until I was in what was considered to be my room. For all intents and purposes, it was very much my bedroom, but I spent so little time in it that it often felt like something I was borrowing, a mere temporary space where I keep my things. The walls were empty save a few photographs I taped up, and the room bare other than essential furniture and a few scattered items of clothing. Nothing but the large window drew the eye, and that was due entirely to the beauty of the nature it displayed, having itself no fancy window treatments or curtains. I never wanted to make myself too at home here, and had spent a lot of time when I first arrive clinging to the delusion that my stay here would be brief. My real home was three blocks west of here. It was there that I grew up, there that my dad and I made the most of life together, and there that I was informed that he had passed away, taking everything I ever thought I knew about happiness with him.

Loneliness was not something I often struggled with. I'd always found people to be, for the most part, overbearing, oversensitive, and overall a pain in my ass. That's not to say there weren't a select few I found bearable. Growing up I spent most of my time on the local Indian reservation with my dad, causing all kinds of hell with some of the other kids while my dad watched games or played cards with his friends. As I got older those friendships endured, and when my dad passed away they were all I had left. Embry Call, Jacob Black, and Quil Ateara had always been there for me, even hiding me between their houses for a week when I was faced with going into foster care. It wasn't until Jake got careless and tried to slip me some food out the kitchen window at a famous Clearwater fish fry that I was caught, and by the chief of police no less. I tried to laugh it off, not wanting Jake to beat himself up about it. I didn't blame him, it was inevitable, and as much as I appreciated the boys' help, I was just being a petulant child about the whole thing. Chief Swan had been a friend of my father's for as long as I could remember and was nice enough, but he was bound by the law and wanted to do what was best for me. "Everyone's real worried about you Maggie," he told me on the way to the Nelson's foster home, notably avoiding my gaze as he did so. My response was a mere shrug, dooming the rest of the ride to be endured through an uncomfortable silence. Charlie wasn't great with kids.

As the rain continued to beat down on the house I threw my bag to the floor and collapsed on my bed, glancing at the small alarm clock on my nightstand with a sigh and allowing my eyes to drift shut. Rain always helped me sleep. I wasn't really one for naps, but they were a side effect of staying up past two in the morning when I had to be at school by eight. Reading, watching TV, getting around to homework— I could find plenty to do at night to avoid going to bed. Reaching out before fatigue took me I managed to set my alarm, knowing I would sleep for days if I didn't take such precautions. Forks High got out about an hour earlier than La Push, which gave me about forty-five minutes to sleep before heading over to the Call's for what Quil had dubbed, "Sega Genesis Fight to the Death Tournament of Champions Tuesdays." It all started a few months ago when Embry found his old Sega Genesis game system in the back of his closet. It was a Tuesday. Quil ran with it.

* * *

Grabbing my bag I made a dash down the stairs, nearly falling down the last few as my arms tangled in the strap in my attempt to hoist it overhead and onto my shoulder. When I heard the kitchen sink I groaned inwardly and rushed to slip on my ratty old Chuck Taylor's, hoping to escape notice.

"Maggie? Is that you?" I heard Lisa's voice from the kitchen and paused, my hand already on the door knob.

"Yeah, I'm heading out." This was usually more than enough explanation for the Nelson's, but apparently I had used up all my luck escaping the downpour earlier.

"Maggie, hun I need to talk to you for a minute." She paused in the doorframe, her expression as dull and disinterested as it usually was. I had never been a rebel by nature, and Lisa was the furthest thing from a disciplinarian as you could get. In practice, this meant I did whatever I wanted, and my foster mom neither cared nor noticed. Not being used to this divergent behavior of hers I relented, curious.

"Sure, what's up?" I released my grip in the door but remained in the entry way, resting an arm on the stair banister. Lisa took a few steps closer, not really making eye contact. That was normal.

"Oh I just got a letter from the school today reminding parents that conferences were coming up." I cocked an eyebrow, confused. She'd never so much as asked me how my day was, and now she wanted to go to parent teacher conferences? "I just need to know you're doing okay hun, you know, grades and stuff."

I paused, relaxing the grip I suddenly noticed I had on the banister and shrugged.

"Don't worry about it Lisa, I'm doing fine. Really." She didn't press the matter further and simply nodded, attempting a grin that ended up looking far more like a grimace.

"Okay, well, sounds good then, thanks hun."

I didn't know if it was something to do with the state not sending money to foster homes with failing kids, or just concern over appearances in such a small town, but either way, it wasn't genuine concern. Satisfied that things were back to status quo I made for the door again, not looking back as I pulled it shut behind me.

* * *

By the time I left the house the rain had stopped for the most part, settling back into the constant drizzle of earlier. It was about a fifteen minute walk to La Push, and as I approached Embry's house it was obvious I was last to arrive. The boys' voices carried out the open windows and I paused a moment at the door, listening to their antics.

"I'll just play for Mags as Sonya Blade until she gets here, come on who's she up against next round?" Quil's enthusiasm for Mortal Kombat never weaned.

"You play for her and you're a dead man, you'll totally ruin her record," This response from Jake was followed by a loud slap and a thud, and from what I could tell Quil's attempt to defend his own honor backfired and left him shoved onto the couch.

"Come on! We can't just wait for her!"

"We know how much you love playing Sonya and pretending you have breasts, but just cool it man." Over Jake's boisterous laugh it sounded as if this snarky remark had earned Embry a decent bruise, but before missing out on any more of the hilarity I stepped in and slammed the door behind me. The sound silenced the laugher momentarily as they noticed my entrance, and with a great effort I suppressed a grin, turning on Quil with a deadly glare.

"I swear to God Ateara, you ruin my score and I ruin your chance at ever having kids." When I took a step forward he took half a step back, causing the rest of us to explode in laughter.

"You dumb ass what'd I tell you?" Jake continued to grin as he spoke, staring at the TV and setting up the next match. "Mags doesn't mess around when it comes to Segdaftoct." He stumbled over the last word, but it was as good a shot as any at our ever changing pronunciation of the acronym for Sega Genesis Fight to the Death Tournament of Champions Tuesday.

I nodded in the affirmative to Jake's statement, ruffling Quil's hair as I moved passed him to the couch and ducking agilely as he attempted to retaliate on my disheveled blonde hair. I noticed Embry smirk from the corner of my eye and returned it as I turned and dove at him, catching him off guard and attempting to muss up his slightly gelled do. Unfortunately he managed to stand before I could assault his head, which left it just out of my reach. He quickly turned the tables and caught me around the waist flipping me upside down and tossing me on the couch.

"I've warned you Donnelly, there are consequences to messing up hair this perfect."

Ignoring the fact his hair looked no more put together than a hobo's I managed a pathetic pout in return, still sprawled haphazardly next to Jake on the couch. "But I didn't even touch it!"

Finishing the set up of the game Jake finally rejoined the rest of us, having totally missed everything. "Come on, are we going to play or what?"

I quickly spun right side up and adjusted my shirt, snatching the extra controller from the floor and glancing over at Quil and Embry. "Yeah come on guys, jeez," I chastised, looking every bit as innocent as my small stature implied.

Jake looked at me confused before glancing to Embry who rolled his eyes dramatically and to Quil who simply shook his head with a grin and left for the kitchen to scrounge up some food. "What I miss?"

"Don't worry about it, I'm with you Jake, Sega is serious shit." He narrowed his eyes slightly with a smile, still sensing he was being mocked, but instead of inquiring further he merely gave me a shove, almost knocking me off the couch while simultaneously starting the game. By the time I'd regained my balance and got my controller in order he'd already gotten three hits in. "Jacob Black, that was low." I paused, a small smile tugging at my lips as I spared my left hand momentarily to wipe away a fake tear. "I'm so proud."

* * *

We played well into the evening, switching off and pausing at various times to snack. At around eight our thumbs and eyes were feeling the effects of over four straight hours and video games and we called it a night. Hearing the patter of rain as Quil opened the door to leave I sighed, pulling up the hood of my blue canvas coat. It was going to be a long walk. Jake's house was in the direction of town, so he and I were able to walk together for a few minutes. Spending time with Jacob Black was something I had always enjoyed far more than I was ever willing to admit to myself. As he turned to head down his driveway I offered a small wave before returning my hand to my jacket pocket.

"See ya." It seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to say as we parted, but out of the corner of my eye I saw him pause, his mouth slightly agape as if he were looking at a crazy person.

"What?" I asked blankly, cocking my head slightly at his expression.

He gestured to the sky dramatically as if that would be enough to clue me in, but I remained confused as I stepped closer.

"What?"

"Mags, do you honestly think I would let you walk home in this?"

I glanced to the sky to re-evaluate the weather and looked back to him with a small shrug as a crack of thunder echoed in the distance. He rolled his eyes dramatically with a small smirk, grabbing the shoulder of my coat and tugging me along toward his house. Opening the passenger door of his dad's truck he gestured for me to get in as he turned and made a quick dash to the house.

"Gotta grab the keys, be right…" His voice was cut off as I pulled the door shut, shivering slightly and suddenly very glad Jake had been more cognizant of the weather than I had been. It only took him a few seconds and he was back outside, jogging to the truck so as not to make me wait. It was unconscious, I was sure, but I found it sweet none the less. When he got in I attempted a weak protest for courtesy's sake, but knew he wouldn't budge.

"You know, you really don't have to, I've walked in worse."

Again he rolled his eyes but continued to smile, and I briefly mused at whether he was capable of an unhappy expression. I liked to think he wasn't.

"You don't have to act so tough all the time Maggie." There was a softness in the way he used my full name, and when he looked at me it was like he was looking at a delicate vase, concerned that it was about to crash into a million pieces. Suddenly very aware of my own femininity I looked down at my hands, hoping my hood was concealing the blush I felt creeping up my neck. Did I really try to act tough? I never thought so, but since I spent the majority of my time with boys I rarely, if ever, allowed myself to express the type of vulnerability usually associated with women. As we pulled out of the driveway I shrugged and absently began flipping through radio stations.

"You're just mad because I'm more bad ass than you and it threatens your masculinity."

He laughed outright at this, and whatever tension there was in the previous moment instantly vanished.

* * *

I wasn't bothered by anyone when I arrived home well past dark, nor was I likely even noticed. I headed directly upstairs and collapsed onto my bed, grabbing my netbook and sliding it onto my lap. I was a little surprised to find I had an actual email in my inbox, as opposed to the constant flow of Viagra offers and internet scams I usually had to sift through, and even more surprised to see who it was from. Back when my dad had passed away some of his friends had offered me their numbers and emails, telling me to contact them if I ever needed anything. One such person was Chief Swan, who apparently after three years had managed to hang onto the post-it I'd given him with my email address on it.

As curious as I felt as I opened the message, I was also quite weary, wondering what kind of horrible news could be so important as to warrant a personal email. After skimming through it I was instantly relieved of my concern, completely unaware of the violent impact that this single event was going to have on my world. Like a single drop that indicates the coming of a storm, so began my all of my troubles in the form of an innocent brown haired girl.

* * *

Review if you would like, I won't demand it like some kind of desperate narcissist. :)


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